


a wintery passing

by tipsy_teletubbies



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Autumn, Bittersweet Ending, Candles, Dancer Hyunggu, Established Relationship, M/M, Spring, Unrequited Love, Winter, a crap ton of references and metaphors, author is crying about wonki, spot the one (1) seventeen reference, that quickly goes to not established relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipsy_teletubbies/pseuds/tipsy_teletubbies
Summary: For the last four years, they have been each other's autumn and winter. Together, they have bid farewell to their treasured autumn and stood against the savage winds of winter. Together, they have moved through the seasons and kept the spirit of the fall season alive and remembered in their kisses and Hyunggu's candles. Together, they have walked the autumnal bridge to winter, and together, they have let autumn die out in the face of winter's vicious cold.For the last four years, they have been each other's autumn and winter, but they cannot be each other's spring and summer.(unofficial sequel to "the art of autumnal things")
Relationships: Kang Hyunggu | Kino/Ko Shinwon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	a wintery passing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [violetholdsme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetholdsme/gifts).



> i have been stanning pentagon for approximately three months now, and i am already hopelessly in love with these two. i'm not surprised, to be honest. they're literal dorks. 
> 
> when i read [the art of autumnal things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29244747) by the lovely [violetholdsme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/violetholdsme/pseuds/violetholdsme), i spent twenty minutes crying over how beautiful and well written it was, and another twenty begging her to let me write a sequel, which she has graciously allowed me to do so (thank you so so much ^-^) 
> 
> please read [the art of autumnal things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29244747) first because it deserves so much love, and also because i make a lot of references to it and this fic won't make sense if you don't read it. but mainly because the original is just so good and i can't stop raving about it. 
> 
> anyway, if you were looking for a happy sequel, then i'm so sorry, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless :))

Shinwon can't even begin to remember how long he has been lounging in the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone - _has he even gotten out of bed since he's woken up?_ \- as he watches the minutes tick by. His back is starting to turn numb from how long he's been in the same position, but the displeasure from just the simple thought of moving is enough to convince him to ignore it for a little longer. 

The apartment is silent, save for the faint scratching at the ceiling where he knows the cat above his apartment lives. He is tired and comfortable (aside from his numb back), but he's also bored and he doesn't have any plans for the day, so maybe he should get out of bed to bother that nice couple - Junhui and Minghao, he thinks their names are - who also happen to be the owners of that cat that just _keeps scratching at his ceiling, goddamn it-_

Shinwon is still trying not to internally cuss the cat - _the cat -_ out when a knocking at his front door draws his attention away. He blinks owlishly, thoughts screeching to an abrupt halt as he stares out his bedroom door, confusion replacing his irritation. He isn't expecting anyone over today, is he?

"Hello?" A faint voice, muffled by the wood of the door, calls out, and Shinwon jolts from his position. "Is anyone home?" The knocking continues, and it really doesn't seem like it's going to stop any time soon, prompting Shinwon to creep warily towards the front door, still debating whether getting out of bed is worth it. 

"HELLO?" The voice comes again, albeit _much_ louder this time, and Shinwon leaps a good foot into the air, swinging the door hastily open to stop the noise. The man, a delivery guy, stares at him, hand frozen in the air, mid-knock. "Oh, hello. Sorry about the knocking, I rang the doorbell a few times, but I didn't get a response."

Right, the doorbell has been broken for a few weeks now; Shinwon makes a mental note to fix it, although he's aware he's never going to get around to it either way. "Ah, sorry about that." He looks down at the box by the delivery guy's feet and tilts his head. "Is that for me or...?" 

"Oh yes." The delivery guy scrambles to present the clipboard and pen, an expectant smile on his face. "For Kang Hyunggu."

 _Ah. That explains it._ Shinwon winces apologetically, gesturing helplessly. "I'm sorry, but Hyunggu isn't home right now."

Shinwon could have sworn the other _wilts_ before his eyes as he glances at the box, nudging it disdainfully. "I'm telling you, I have the worst luck with people named Hyunggu."

Really, Shinwon feels guilty even though he has no reason to. The box looks like it weighs half of the delivery guy's body weight. "Well, I can take it for him. He'll be home soon. I think." As soon as the words leave his mouth, he pauses; the situation feels strangely familiar, like deja vu, though he can't pinpoint exactly what it is about it that feels familiar. 

The delivery guy brightens in an instant, handing over the pen with a renewed vigour, and Shinwon can't help but laugh a little, signing his name quickly. "Thank you," he looks at the name printed neatly on the name tag, "Jinho-ssi." Shinwon frowns; the name also feels strangely familiar as well. "Um, this sounds weird, but... do I know you from somewhere?"

Jinho looks at him, question clouding his eyes as he seems to search his memory, and Shinwon kind of wants to shy away from the intensity of his gaze. "I don't really have any recollection?" he says finally, furrowing his brows. "But I see a lot of people everyday, so that's not surprising. Maybe you've seen me at work before."

Shinwon shrugs. "Yeah, maybe. Thanks again for delivering this, I can only imagine your pain."

Jinho smiles at that, nodding towards the dreaded box. "Good luck with this. I hope you haven't done your work out for today yet, because this thing is more effective than any weights." He gives Shinwon a small wave and disappears into the elevator, and then it's _Shinwon's_ turn to glare at the package disdainfully. A relaxing Saturday, thwarted by a stupid box he doesn't even know the contents of. But it's either suck it up and lug the package inside the apartment, or leave it by the door and risk it being stolen, and Shinwon really isn't in the mood for a possible theft (and an earful). Dragging it in, it is. 

Ten minutes later, he's cursing the gods in all the languages he knows - granted, it's not as many as he would like - as he slumps over the box, feeling a little like burning the damn thing. 

Goddamn, the package is fucking _heavy._

Shinwon is back on the bed, back under the covers, and back to scrolling mindlessly on his phone, alternating between various social media platforms. He isn't even paying attention, just letting his eyes flick over the posts, the words floating meaninglessly in his empty mind. His thoughts have been preoccupied with the box anyway. He hasn't bothered to open it yet, but he has a pretty good idea of what it contains to weigh so fucking much. There's only a number of things that Hyunggu likes (he's picky like that), and Shinwon has memorized all of them. 

It also helps that he's managed to recall where he's heard Jinho's name from and why he recognizes him; the little items placed meticulously around the apartment is reminder enough. 

The apartment is dim with barely any light despite the open blinds and the late afternoon; it's early December, and daylight is a scarcity, retreating earlier and earlier into dusk with each passing day. Grey clouds haze over the sky in a light blanket, and it almost looks like it's going to snow. 

It's not quite cold enough to be called winter yet, but autumn has undoubtedly passed by, breezing past with barely a caress against his cheeks. Shinwon doesn't know if he likes it or hates it. 

He sighs at that, abandoning his phone is favour of reminiscing the vibrant hues of red and golden that had scattered the ground, the fragrant perfume of spices and pumpkin and vanilla that had scented every piece of clothing and furniture he owned, the warmth and comfort that had settled in his bones as he cuddled into his bed and comforters. 

Only a few months have passed since autumn, and yet the longing in Shinwon's chest exceeds that measly time frame. Maybe it's because while he's been experiencing the season, he hasn't been experiencing _autumn;_ he hasn't experienced the wonders of the season for... how long has it been? Shinwon can't even remember. 

He's still searching the depths of his mind for a vague memory of the warmth of autumn, the damn package in the kitchen forgotten completely, when he hears the front door open and close with a soft click, a familiar voice calling out tiredly. 

Hyunggu is home. 

A quick check of his phone tells Shinwon he's been lounging around, getting lost in his head, for far too long to be considered acceptable, and guilt gnaws at him persistently as he trudges out of the bedroom. From his spot in the hallway, he can hear Hyunggu shuffling around the small apartment quietly, and if he listens a little closer, he can even trace the other's footsteps and exact position. 

Unfortunately, this also means Shinwon can hear, clear as day, the barely audible sigh Hyunggu breathes out at the sight of the unfolded laundry sitting on the living room couch, and he feels even worse, especially when he can see the exhaustion weighing down Hyunggu's delicate features. Shinwon can longer recall when a constant frown had started to replace the sunny smile Hyunggu used to wear every day. He is contemplating retreating back into the bedroom and feigning sleep, but the younger turns around and catches his eyes, and Shinwon has nowhere to hide. 

"Hey, Shinwonie." Hyunggu tries his best to give him a wide smile, and even though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, Shinwon appreciates the effort. 

"Hey." The awkwardness between them doesn't dissipate, and it's getting harder to breathe in the heavy tension of the room. Shinwon grins at him in a halfhearted attempt to put them both at ease. "Back so early? I though you said you were going to put the kids through some hellish training today."

Maybe the gods have decided to play nice today. Hyunggu's smile relaxes as he sinks onto the couch, hands automatically reaching for the pile of laundry as he sighs dramatically. "Those kids. Can't even survive two hours of conditioning, and they have the audacity to call themselves _dancers._ My teacher would be ashamed." 

Shinwon laughs easily as he settles beside him, doing the laundry he had promised to do before the younger left, but completely slipped his mind anyway. It doesn't help that he knows there's a stack of dirty dishes left by the sink that he had meant to do after lunch but just _couldn't_ , and he really is dreading that disappointed expression that always paints Hyunggu's face whenever he is upset but trying to hide it. Not that he's any good at hiding his expressions from Shinwon, or anyone for that matter. 

"Not everyone can be you, Kang Hyunggu, so lower your standards a bit," Shinwon teases, relishing in the light, airy chuckle he coaxes out of the other. 

It still sounds beautiful, like falling leaves in autumn. 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and if Shinwon tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like the sky isn't darkening into a concerning gray; like the temperature isn't dropping with every painstaking minute; like the dark circles under Hyunggu's eyes and the deep lines etched onto his face are not reality. 

If Shinwon tries hard enough, he can almost pretend they are back in autumn, instead of waiting helplessly for the inevitable arrival of the bitter winter. 

"Shinwon."

"Hyunggu," Shinwon blurts out at the same time. Hyunggu raises a brow at him, surprised, but motions for him to speak first. "Something came for you today. A large package. I received it since you weren't home, but it's in the kitchen now."

"Oh, I saw that when I came in. I was wondering what the heck that was." He jumps up from the couch, tiredness seemingly forgotten as he bounds to the kitchen to retrieve his package. 

"Careful, it's heav-"

" _What the fuck?_ "

Shinwon tries and fails to contain his laughter as the younger shoves his entire body weight against the box to move it from the kitchen to the living room, and not even a deadly glare can shut him up; not when Hyunggu is panting like he's running a marathon. "Those gym sessions with Changgu really would have come in handy, wouldn't they?" 

"Shut up," Hyunggu sulks, disappearing into another room to grab a pair of scissors. "Don't act like you're any better than me. Remember that time you almost passed out because Hongseok-hyung made you lift weights?"

Shinwon shuts up after that. 

He sits back on the couch, laundry be damned, as he watches Hyunggu open the package with a giddiness akin to a child opening a birthday present; he always does get excited over the little things, and Shinwon has long forgotten when the last time he's seen him smile this brightly was. 

The last of the packaging tape falls away under the blade, and really, Shinwon is watching Hyunggu's face more than the actual unwrapping, but as long as the younger's eyes stay on the box and not on Shinwon, then no one will ever know. 

"Huh." Hyunggu digs a hand into the box and holds up _something_ swathed in bubble wrap, and Shinwon has a brief flash of deja vu once again. "These weren't supposed to arrive until next month."

"Are those candles?" Shinwon doesn't wait for an answer because, in all honesty, he has already known they are scented candles long before the big reveal (there are only a few things Hyunggu likes, remember?), but he's still surprised by the sheer amount of them in the box as he examines a few of the items. 

"Hongseok-hyung said they were supposed to be my birthday gift." Hyunggu shrugs nonchalantly, but Shinwon can see the beginnings of a bashful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I have no idea why they're here so early though. Maybe they're an early birthday gift for you too."

Shinwon can't help it; a laughing fit takes over, and it isn't long before Hyunggu joins him. It's loud, it's unrestrained, it's _definitely_ not as funny as it seems to be, and okay, maybe it sounds a little crazy and unhinged too, but it feels good, and he doesn't want to make himself stop. It's been a long time since he's laughed this freely with the other, after all. 

"Hyunggu, I don't even like candles," he gets out past his lingering chuckles. It's true; Shinwon has never been one for candles. In all their years together, Hyunggu's obsession has been enough to compensate, and despite Shinwon's lack of love for them, their apartment is always decorated with an endless sea of scented candles. 

"I know," Hyunggu laughs, shoving a random candle into his hands as he smiles up at Shinwon again, only this time, his eyes actually crinkle the slightest bit. "But maybe you'll like this one. Hongseok-hyung picked it out _especially for you._ " 

Shinwon barks out another loud laugh, but as his eyes wander over the scrawling words of the candle's label, it dies in his throat. Noticing his sudden silence, Hyunggu stops laughing as well, looking at him curiously with a question in his gaze. Shinwon forces himself to tear his eyes away from the candle to meet Hyunggu's. 

"I thought these were autumn candles?" 

The neat printing on the label is a slap to their faces as they both stare down at it: _Fallin' Snow._

Hyunggu shifts uncomfortably as Shinwon raises his head to look at him, apprehension clear on his face as he averts his eyes. "Um, I asked hyung for something different this time. Something more refreshing. It was getting a little... stuffy."

Shinwon can't really register the words the younger is saying. They're _words_ , certainly, but he can't understand a single one of them. "Right." He sounds a little like he's choking, but he can't help it. "Stuffy." 

The tension and awkwardness is back tenfold, and this time, Shinwon doesn't think anything he can do will be able to chase it away. The candle - the _winter_ candle - is a dead weight in his hands, an unpleasant reminder of the autumn that has already come and passed; it's equally useless and foolish to keep chasing after something that has already fluttered out of reach. 

Hyunggu is silent as he stands up from the floor and grabs his dance bag from the couch, determinedly looking at anything but Shinwon. He doesn't even look at the box of candles or the one in Shinwon's hands again. By the time Shinwon remembers Hyunggu wants to talk to him about something as well, the other has already disappeared into the bathroom without a second glance backward. 

It hasn't always been like this; hasn't always been this strung out, strained atmosphere that now has them dancing around each other cautiously, the knowledge that one wrong step could send them plummeting through the thin ice that has formed at their feet heavy in their hearts and minds. It hasn't always been like this; hasn't always been this looming threat of _winter_ settling over their heads menacingly as they desperately seek to escape the bone chilling cold. 

On particularly bad days like today, Shinwon allows himself to be lost in his memories. The memories that are gentle and comforting and warm, and thaw his ice cold skin. The memories of his beloved autumn that are only that now; vague, cherished, faded memories. 

Hyunggu used to look at him with crinkled eyes and bright smiles, and Shinwon recalls how, in the past, the faint scent of autumn had always clung to the younger's clothes regardless of the time and day. It had been comforting, familiar, pleasant, so distinctly _Hyunggu_ , and Shinwon loved it. He can still remember their excitement as they had transferred all their belongings (not that Shinwon had very many to begin with) into the apartment they now share, the stifled laughs as they had bantered over furniture choices and decor, can still remember the way their room had been painted with a dim golden from the small flames of Hyunggu's - _their_ \- autumn candles. 

"The power's not out," Shinwon had pointed out softly, not really minding anyway as he combed his fingers through Hyunggu's hair. 

"I know." The younger had smiled up at him, the corners of his lips parting in that cute way that Shinwon had absolutely adored; _still_ absolutely adores. "It just feels nice, doesn't it?"

It did feel nice. The warmth of the flames had been a gentle and welcome weight settling comfortably above his skin, though nothing could have compared to the heat of Hyunggu's fingers against Shinwon's cheek. 

"That's not the only reason, is it?"

Hyunggu had laughed, his eyes dancing with the dim candlelight, and Shinwon had fallen deeper and deeper, if that was even possible. "You caught me. Remember the night I asked you to move in with me? When was that, two years ago?"

Shinwon had pulled him closer to his body, leaning his head down to smile against Hyunggu's hair, the sharp smell of maple and vanilla invading his senses. "Of course I do. We barely knew each other back then, but that didn't stop you, did it? Bold little thing." 

Enveloped by the scents of autumn, Shinwon had kissed him, gentle like the first snow. 

Autumn has always been the transition for them, the pathway between friends and something _more_. It has always been the hallway in which they passed each other tentatively, the bridge they walked on together, hands locked and a promise in their hearts; a promise to leave autumn and brave the cold of winter together. 

But cold isn't the only thing winter will ever be; cold isn't the only thing winter _has_ ever been. Winter used to be blazing fireplaces and cups of hot cocoa. Winter used to be red tipped noses and playful snow fights and sweet laughs, tinkling like wind chimes in the sunset. It used to be clumsily wrapped presents and sappy movies and seemingly endless strands of lights strung up around the apartment, warm on the eyes and warm on the skin like the candlelights Shinwon has learned to love. 

Now, it's been four years since that fateful night of the thunderstorm, since that fateful night Hyunggu and Shinwon had moved past autumn. 

Enveloped no longer by the scents of autumn but only by a deep seated loneliness and an old comforter, Shinwon looks at the candle in his hands; a small, almost burned out candle, its weak flame barely offering any light and warmth to the cold, dark room. 

The very first candle Shinwon had gifted Hyunggu for his birthday: _Fallin' Leaves._

The bridge that is autumn has been burned down, the ashes, carried by the bitter winter wind, drifting away like the lightest snowflakes. There's no rebuilding it, no retreating back into the inviting embrace of Autumn to escape from the harsh and brutal reality of Winter, leaving Shinwon to desperately and hopelessly grasp for it anyway, trapped in the frozen wasteland. 

The flame finally hits the base of the candle, dying out before his eyes. It's truly over; _autumn_ is truly over. There's no hope of rekindling it now, not when the chill of the air threatens to suffocate what little fire Shinwon manages to coax out of the dying embers. 

He sets the candle down on his worn out desk and draws the comforter tighter around his numb body, although the cold never really leaves him despite his efforts. It's made a home in him, encasing his soul with a layer of impenetrable ice that not even the summer sun can thaw. He turns to the window, watching as the first snowflake falls against the pane of glass, impossibly pretty and deceivingly delicate. For as fragile as it may appear, snow is the merciless hand that smothers all life in the world. 

Shinwon traces a finger against the silhouette of the snowflake, his vacant gaze following its path as it melts and streams down the window; he ignores the single tear that mirrors it, streaking down his own face. The snow is falling down faster and faster now; he remembers how Hyunggu had once fallen too, and how he had been the one to catch him. Now Shinwon is the one falling, but there is no one at the end to cushion his graceless descent. 

The scent of autumn is but a distant memory, gone with nothing to replace it. 

"Happy birthday, Hyunggu," he whispers to himself. There's no one in the apartment to hear him anyway. 

It's nearing the middle of February, and Shinwon hates it with an unrivalled passion. The day is barely light enough to even be called day, and the vibrancy and the liveliness of the world has been dampened by the endless shades of white and gray that gives him a headache the longer he stares at it. He can't go a day without a snowfall warning, and _god_ , Shinwon is cold. 

Cold isn't the only thing winter will ever be; cold isn't the only thing winter _has_ ever been, but now, cold _is_ the only thing winter ever is. No matter how many layers of blankets he covers himself with, no matter how high he turns the thermostat to, no matter how many heating packs he attaches to himself, he can't stop shivering, can't chase away the freezing cold that has invaded his body. It's a curse, a miserable thing that follows after him wherever he goes, unwilling to release him from its icy claws. Shinwon _hates_ it.

If Shinwon were a more honest man, he would admit to himself that he does, indeed, know how to rid himself of the cold. It's simpler than he likes, and it's as easy as shifting the mere twelve or so inches to his left, the twelve or so inches that feel more like twelve or so miles separating him from his cure. But Shinwon is both a coward and a liar before he is anything, and so he lays there in the bed, unmoving and swathed in his useless blankets as he listens to Hyunggu breathe softly, never once daring to reach over and close the distance of the twelve or so inches between them. He tells himself it's better this way; autumn has come to an end, and now winter must as well. 

He tells himself he's prepared for it. 

Shinwon is a liar. 

Hyunggu comes home one evening in March to a dark and chilly apartment; no one lights the candles anymore, although the winter ones still sit on the counters and windowsills. They only serve as a persistent reminder of the happy past, of what they had been before the curse that is the cold had descended upon them, and every time Shinwon looks at them or smells the frigid winter scents lingering in the air, his heart clenches painfully. 

He isn't doing anything particularly interesting, but the moment Hyunggu walks into the living room with his name on an exhale, he stutters out a barely comprehensible excuse and runs out the front door, as he has done time and time again. He can hear Hyunggu sigh out of frustration behind him as he scrambles to put his shoes on, but he tells himself it's the wind instead. 

After all, Shinwon _is_ both a coward and a liar. 

The air outside is still frosty and crisp, and he's only wearing a light hoodie, but it doesn't feel quite as numbing and biting as the freezing cold he has experienced just a month ago. Maybe it's finally warming up. Or maybe Shinwon has just grown accustomed to the constant chill. Either way, he's walking aimlessly down the streets, and the quiet tranquility that surrounds him is a foreign sound; he's used to the faint bustling of people around him, the _life_ that embraces him. But that is what winter is: a reaper that exists only to reap the life granted to this world. It has reaped the life of nature, and it has reaped the life of Shinwon and Hyunggu's relationship. 

Just as autumn must always come to an end, winter is the end of everything. 

Outside the four walls of the apartment Shinwon both loves and hates, with only the still standing silence to accompany him, he can finally admit to himself: his relationship with Hyunggu is no more than simply another vague, cherished, faded memory, much like the burned out candle that still sits on his desk; much like the autumn in which he loves more than anything. 

He wanders helplessly into a small park, and although the fine blanket of white that Shinwon has grown to despise is nowhere to be found, the park is still as soulless and vacant as can be expected; the product of the curse of winter, he supposes. It's terribly dull and monotonous and dreary, and looking at it feels just the same as looking at the walls of the dark apartment. He knows he should probably leave, should probably return to the same confinement where he knows Hyunggu is waiting on the couch with a deep frown sketched onto his pretty features. But he can't draw his gaze away from the lifeless trees as he weaves around them carefully, dry branches snapping under his every step. It's hypnotizing, and Shinwon falls under its temptation of delaying the inevitable, even if for just a moment longer. 

His eyes are scanning the landscape, but Shinwon doesn't even know what he is looking for. All that meets his sight is the never ending sea of muted tones and the remainders of life that had been present in the park before winter had wrecked its havoc on it. Shinwon sighs, ready to give up, but just as he turns around to head back home, he pauses. He leans closer, just to make sure his eyes aren't playing cruel tricks on him because honestly, he can't really believe it's real. But it _is_ real. 

A single bud dangles from a single branch of a single tree. 

It's tiny, barely visible, but it's undoubtedly there, and it's so delicate that Shinwon holds his breath as he examines it. In the entire park that has been ravaged by Death itself, there is one single tree blessed by Life. The winter that has wiped away autumn is now staring at its own demise in the face. Shinwon can't help it; he laughs to himself in the empty park. 

Winter, the season that is the end of everything, is finally ending. 

"I think we should talk," is what greets Shinwon the very second he steps through the door of the apartment. Just as he has guessed, Hyunggu is sitting on the couch, his silhouette no longer illuminated by the flames of the candles, but by the streetlights outside the window. The harsh lighting only emphasizes the agitation that plays in the depths of his eyes. 

"I think so too." Shinwon makes his way to the living room, and this time, he doesn't let his gaze linger on the dozens of winter candles lining the countertop. He seats himself next to Hyunggu, and, just because he can't help it, takes his hands into his own warm ones. Warm, not the cold he's been fighting for longer than he can remember. Hyunggu only looks at him curiously while Shinwon offers him a small curve of his lips. 

For the last four years, they have been each other's autumn and winter. Together, they have bid farewell to their treasured autumn and stood against the savage winds of winter. Together, they have moved through the seasons and kept the spirit of the fall season alive and remembered in their kisses and Hyunggu's candles. Together, they have walked the autumnal bridge to winter, and together, they have let autumn die out in the face of winter's vicious cold. 

For the last four years, they have been each other's autumn and winter, but they cannot be each other's spring and summer. 

Autumn has to come to an end sooner or later, but so does winter, and spring and summer as well. Everything must come to an end sooner or later, and Shinwon and Hyunggu are no exceptions to this. 

"I think we should break up."

The voice that speaks these words doesn't belong to Hyunggu but Shinwon instead, and Hyunggu only stares at him, his expression conveying a surprise his words won't. Shinwon smiles wistfully. 

"I know you've been thinking about it for a long time. I suppose I have too, in a way. I've just been too much of a coward to really consider it." He laughs without any real mirth, and Hyunggu's eyes soften as he strokes his thumb over Shinwon's hand. It's an unconscious habit, Shinwon knows, but nevertheless, it gives him the strength to push on forwards through the painful words. "But I think it's finally time for us to let go of autumn and winter." 

Hyunggu's eyes are dark and expressive as always, but for the first time in their lives together, Shinwon can't read his thoughts and emotions. He's still rubbing comforting circles onto the back of Shinwon's hands, he's still sitting right there, right in front of Shinwon, he's still Hyunggu, the Kang Hyunggu Shinwon has known for four years. The Kang Hyunggu who harbours a slightly unhealthy obsession with scented candles, the Kang Hyunggu who had led him to his room with a firm grip on Shinwon's hand all those years ago, the Kang Hyunggu who Shinwon has shared autumn and winter with. 

The Kang Hyunggu Shinwon has loved and has been loved by. 

But he's also _Kang Hyunggu_ , the Hyunggu who prefers winter scents over spiced pumpkins and apples, the Hyunggu who is no longer backlit by candle flames but by the blinding lights of the dance stage, where he belongs. The Hyunggu whose smile doesn't quite reach his eyes anymore, but is still kind enough to try even if they both know it will never reach no matter _how_ hard he tries. The Hyunggu who has traveled through the seasons of autumn and winter with Shinwon, but is now leaving him behind in his journey to spring. 

The Kang Hyunggu Shinwon still loves, but is no longer loved by. 

The circles on his hand have stopped, and Hyunggu is staring down at their joined hands, silent and unmoving. Shinwon is scared to even breathe, afraid of breaking the fragile silence that has settled between them. It is not totally foreign, but it's unfamiliar. 

"Hyunggu...?" 

Hyunggu finally looks at him, and Shinwon is left a little breathless because he's smiling at him. It's not the customary, polite smiles he offers strangers, not is it the hollow tilt of his lips Shinwon has grown familiar with. It's not even one of his full blown, radiant, dazzling grins that steals the breath right from Shinwon's lungs, the ones he hasn't seen for years and misses more than even autumn. No, the smile he gives Shinwon is tiny, barely curving his mouth, but it's private and perfect and beautiful, and Shinwon is _still_ falling. He doesn't think he will ever stop falling for Hyunggu. 

"Thank you." 

It's just a simple sentiment, a simple expression of gratitude that is used everyday, but it just means _so much more_ to Shinwon. There's no apologies; they aren't necessary, not when neither of them have done any wrong. It's just that Hyunggu has decided to move on to see the blooms of spring and the colours of summer, and Shinwon, still traversing the paths of winter, isn't cruel enough to hold him back in his journey. 

It's Shinwon's turn to squeeze his hands lightly, and when he pulls them away, he finds that maybe he doesn't _need_ the other to chase away the cold that has always inhabited his body. He reaches into the bag by his feet, all the while smiling self consciously. 

"I picked up something for you on the way home."

Hyunggu raises a brow at him, visibly amused by his odd actions. "Oh? A break up gift?"

The rather abrasive words should sting, but they don't, and Shinwon is chuckling humorously instead. "You could put it that way. Close your eyes."

He obliges, but not without eyeing Shinwon suspiciously, and Shinwon kind of wants to maybe tickle him senseless instead to mess with him, but he doesn't. He retrieves the item from the bag and places it gingerly on Hyunggu's outstretched hands, and judging by his furrowed brows, Hyunggu already knows what it is. 

"Is that...?" 

"You can open them now."

Hyunggu opens his eyes, but they aren't on the gift he is holding onto. He just stares at Shinwon, a mix of confusion and hesitation on his face, and Shinwon only nods towards his hands with an easy smile. 

"Shinwonie," Hyunggu starts softly, "why are you giving me a candle?"

Shinwon doesn't answer him, instead pulling him into a tight hug, and it's only a split moment before the younger reciprocates, wrapping his arm around Shinwon and squeezing tightly. If Shinwon tries hard enough, he can almost pretend they are back in autumn, instead of saying goodbye to each other at the crossroad of winter and spring. But he can't, so he doesn't, and he pulls away from the embrace before he _does_ start to pretend. 

"I hope you find your spring, Hyunggu-ah." 

He stands up then, and he thinks there are tears in Hyunggu's eyes, but he never wants to see the other cry, so he turns his back to him and walks to the front door. It's only when his hand is resting on the door knob that Hyunggu speaks again, so softly that it barely reaches Shinwon's ears. 

"I hope one day, you will find your spring too. Goodbye, Shinwon." 

Hyunggu's apartment is a safe haven for Shinwon, an escape from the cutting reality of the world. It's a dream, a fantasy that Shinwon has been graciously invited into, an enchanting wonderland that leaves him wanting more, but he has already overstayed his welcome. 

If autumn is the transitional passageway that connects the end of summer to winter, then winter is the barren wasteland in which everyone seeks to escape from. The autumnal bridge Shinwon and Hyunggu once walked on together has disintegrated, and after being trapped in their icy cage for so long, there is finally another exit, another bridge, only this one connects to the flourishing spring. The spring that is a new beginning and the blossoming of a new life. 

But the bridge is for one person and one person only, and Hyunggu has to be the one who walks it because Shinwon is neither strong enough nor brave enough to truly leave autumn behind. Maybe one day, another bridge will appear, and maybe one day, he'll finally gather the courage to explore his own Spring, both Autumn and Winter letting him go gently and wishing him well. But for now, Hyunggu must be the one who leaves first 

The candle is one last gift from Shinwon to Hyunggu, a blessing for him to move on and continue on his path to his spring. 

The very last candle Shinwon will ever gift Hyunggu: _Fallin' Flower._

 _Goodbye, Hyunggu._

Shinwon turns the knob and the door is open, so he walks outside without looking back. 

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes, i couldn't stop myself from referencing seventeen's fallin' flower because i'm ✨ obsessed✨. could you tell? 
> 
> miss violetholdsme, if you're reading this, did you enjoy my recreation and reimagination of your masterpiece? i really hope i did it justice because i'm still fangirling over the original ^.^ 
> 
> if you guys want to continue this seasonal cycle of relationships, i'm literally begging you to do it. please. i'm sure miss violet would love it too. 
> 
> anyway, thank you so much for reading, and i would absolutely love to hear all of your feedback and comments ♡ (also read the original fic, i dare you XD)


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